


Rolls & Grudges: How Draco meet Hermione

by crochetaway, Squarepeg72



Series: Rolls and Grudges: A Series of Strange Events [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Desk Sex, F/M, Smut, marriage law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 06:24:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18794749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squarepeg72/pseuds/Squarepeg72
Summary: They were told that complex arithmancy was used to find the best match when the marriage law was passed. The reality is a bit - different. What really goes on behind the scenes in the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths when a marriage law is declared.





	Rolls & Grudges: How Draco meet Hermione

**Author's Note:**

> **Thank you much to our beta for her last-minute work on this piece! Thanks also to the admins for all their hard work in hosting this fest!**
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> [](https://www.flickr.com/photos/148170750@N07/46959249275/in/dateposted-public/)  
> 

_26 April 2004_

The minute the law was passed, the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths became a flurry of activity. Memos were flying every which way, too the point that it became difficult for Marietta Edgecombe to see her desk. The bits of parchment fluttered like birds overhead, blocking all light from the antique fixtures. Marietta frowned, and shoved as many of the flying memos out of her way so she could concentrate as she reread the new law.

She didn’t particularly _want_ to get married, but perhaps this was just what she needed to have her revenge on that Granger bitch. Marietta self-consciously scratched at the pustules that still littered her forehead, spelling out SNEAK. Nothing fixed it. Potions, spells, counter-curses. Her fringe barely covered it, and she still applied heavy dollops of Muggle concealer every day, just in case the nasty letters showed through her hair. In embarrassing desperation, Marietta had written to Granger last year and asked her if there was a way to fix it. Marietta hadn’t thought she could resent Granger any more than she already did, but the silence after her letter was enough to make her hatred boil over. Where was the justice? Marietta was permanently disfigured and Granger didn’t suffer a single consequence. The school hadn’t cared. The Ministry certainly didn’t care. And Granger couldn’t even be bothered to reply to her letter, even to say ‘no.’ But now…now Marietta was getting an idea. She snatched her copy of the bill off her desk and hurried over to Madame Umbridge’s office.

Marietta and Umbridge had always shared something of a special connection due to the events of Marietta’s sixth year at Hogwarts. Umbridge had been appropriately sympathetic and horrified by what Granger had done to Marietta, and while Marietta knew that _something_ had happened to Umbridge, she’d never quite been clear on _what_. Clearly, the experience had given Umbridge a weakness, and Marietta planned to exploit that to her own advantage.

The fact that Marietta worked in the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths at all was due to Umbridge. She was the only department head who would hire Marietta, despite Marietta’s mother working in the Department of Magical Transportation.

She knocked on Umbridge’s open door as a stream of memos entered the office, flattened themselves, and settled into Umbridge’s inbox.

“Marietta, come in. How are you? Tea?” Umbridge asked with a bright smile. “Isn’t this new law glorious? Think of the possibilities!”

“I have been,” Marietta said as she settled into one of the visitor chairs. She accepted the teacup Umbridge offered and took a small sip. “I think this is a great win for us.”

“It is, indeed,” Umbridge smirked. “We have just two weeks to match everyone up and get their letters sent out.” She pulled a huge scroll out from one of her desk drawers and set it on top of the desk. “This is everyone in wizarding Britain between the ages of twenty-one and seventy-five. Personally, I would like to match a few of the ‘troublemakers’ myself.”

“Oh! May I help with that?” Marietta asked. “The ‘Golden Trio’ and their lot _hated_ the Slytherins while in school.”

“Those former Slytherins are some of our most, ahem, influential partners,” Umbridge commented.

“True, but the marriage law doesn’t take that into account. Besides, haven’t you always felt just a little slighted by all that Sacred Twenty-Eight nonsense?” Marietta asked. She was a Ravenclaw, but the hat had argued for Slytherin for her. Edgecombe’s were always Ravenclaws, so Marietta had argued back and won. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t employ a Slytherin tactic every now and then.

“Who exactly did you have in mind?” Umbridge asked.

“I think we should pair Granger with her childhood bully,” Marietta said viciously. “She deserves it. The Malfoys can spin it as a positive. A member of the ‘Golden Trio,’” she spat, “to bolster their image… and take down their _pure_ bloodline at the same time.”

“Lucius Malfoy is still rather formidable in the Ministry.”

“Perhaps,” Marietta shrugged, “but even Lucius Malfoy can’t escape the marriage law.”

“I’m not sure angering the Malfoys is the way to succeed in the Ministry.”

“No, but we can’t help what _magic_ decides, can we? Besides, imagine it, both Granger and the Malfoys get their just deserts. The Malfoys may have escaped Azkaban, but you can’t tell me their views on blood supremacy have changed all that much. And what a way to show Granger how she just cannot compete in the wizarding world? Shoving her into an elite situation where she’ll be snubbed at every turn?”

Umbridge pursed her lips for a long moment and looked over Marietta’s shoulder as she considered the suggestion. Marietta calmly sipped her tea, despite feeling like a mess inside. She wanted to screw both Granger and the Malfoys more than anyone else. This was the perfect plan if only Umbridge agreed.

“If you’re certain it will work,” Umbridge said, “I can approve it. Although, I did have thoughts of pairing Granger with someone on the older end of the age range. Shackle her with a septuagenarian.” Umbridge smiled cruelly.

“I can see the appeal, but what happens when her husband keels over after just a year or two? She’s still in her prime. No, I think we should match her with someone close to her age. Someone who won’t die in a few years. Someone who can make her life a living hell for her entire life.

“Alright,” Umbridge conceded. “And for the others?”

“A roll of the die,” Marietta suggested. “I went to school with them all, I know their weaknesses.”

“My, my, you are devious. Are you sure you shouldn’t have been a Slytherin?” Umbridge smiled. Umbridge had been a Slytherin. A very obvious one, Marietta thought.

“Hat didn’t even mention it,” Marietta said, smiling serenely. “Shouted Ravenclaw before even touching my head.” No need to give up all her secrets to her mentor.

“What about you?” Umbridge asked. “Is there someone you would like to be paired with?”

“I’ll have to think on it,” Marietta replied. There were a few people she was already considering. “And you?”

“Shacklebolt,” Umbridge answered immediately. “Mrs. Shacklebolt has an excellent ring to it, does it not?”

“Indeed it does, Madame Umbridge,” Marietta replied with a grin.

“Well, get to work. We’ll need to come up with appropriate language for the notices.” Umbridge shooed her out of the office. Marietta had a distinct bounce in her step, feeling lighter than she had in years, as she made her way back to her desk. She couldn’t wait to set the chaos in motion and watch the fallout of it all.

* * *

_27 April 2004_

“Draco, what are we doing?” Hermione asked as they walked among the shops in Diagon Alley. “Sneaking a dinner here and holding hands in a dark corner doesn’t feel right. Why are you so afraid to define and declare what this is?”

Draco shrugged as they continued to walk side by side. “We are walking and talking right now. Getting to know each other beyond what we knew in school.” Draco reached for her hand. “Why do we need more than that right now?”

“Because I am tired of telling my flatmates that I am going to dinner with a friend, but not being able to tell them who that friend is.” Hermione pulled away from Draco and looked into the window of Ollivanders. The window was dusty, but she could make out Garrick Ollivander as he bustled around his shop. “Making time together around work and family is one thing, but avoiding calling whatever this thing between us is, is driving me a bit batty.”

“Can’t we just take this one date at a time? And it’s not a secret, but unless you want to be hounded by the press every time we step foot in the wizarding world, it’s easier to keep this whole thing quiet,” Draco said as he joined her staring into Ollivanders window. “It’s not like there is going to be a law about it any time soon.”

“What do you do with your time at the Ministry?” Hermione gasped, turning to look at him. “The new Marriage Law went into effect today. Do you _know_ who is in charge of the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths? That witch holds the fate of every witch or wizard from the ages of twenty-one to seventy-five in her hands. Her evil, petrifyingly pink, stubby hands.”

“I spend all my time trying to keep track of criminals and your school chums,” Draco grumbled as he looked into Hermione’s worried face. “Being an Auror is not all wands and wishes, you know. I have criminals to catch and paperwork to get done. The Wizengamot does not like to judge cases if the paperwork is not in order.”

“Being an Auror is not that different from being with DMLE,” Hermione huffed as she turned away from Draco. “It’s not like this new policy was hidden. It has been all over the _Daily Prophet_ and WitchNet for the last month. Dolores Umbridge and the biddies in the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths will be matching every witch and wizard between the ages of twenty-one and seventy-five with their ‘perfect’ mate. As a British subject, I have the right to choose who I spend the rest of my life with, thank you very much.”

“Yes, but you’re a witch first. Bloody hell, Granger. Why are you borrowing trouble?” Draco dragged a shaking hand through his hair. “There is no way anyone in that office will act on that law anytime soon. Can we enjoy this evening?”

“So it is back to Granger again?” Hermione raised an eyebrow and watched color creep into Draco’s cheeks. “Well, Malfoy, I have seen just how vengeful Dolores Umbridge can be. Just because you are a pureblood does not mean she will leave you alone. She has an agenda and she holds grudges.”

“I know,” Draco sighed. He held his arms out and Hermione sighed too. She stepped into the hug he was offering. He pulled Hermione into his chest and laid his cheek on the top of her head. “There is nothing we can do until the owls start to fly, Hermione. Can we try to breath until then?”

Hermione took a deep breath and mumbled into Draco’s chest. “Until the owls fly, I guess so.”

* * *

_28 April 2004_

“Marietta? Can you see me in my office, please?” Madame Umbridge cooed sweetly from her office door into the bullpen of the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths. Marietta hadn’t been expecting this and frowned down at the parchment before her. She wasn’t ready to present her language to Umbridge, but she gathered her parchment and a self-inking quill and hurried to Umbridge’s office.

Umbridge had cleared a space on her desk and Marietta arranged the parchment so that the strongest missive was on top.

“Tea, my dear?” Umbridge simpered from the side table. Marietta nodded briskly and changed a word on the parchment. Umbridge passed her a cup and settled behind the desk, sliding the top sheet of parchment toward her with a pudgy hand. The rings on her fingers glittered dully in the candlelight of the office.

“Hmmm, this isn’t your best work, now is it dear?” Umbridge commented. She dug through the debris on her desk for her own self-inking quill and made several changes to the parchment. Marietta grit her teeth and said nothing, sipping her tea. It wouldn’t be worth it to contradict her or ask for more time. Umbridge ran her department like she had attempted to run Hogwarts all those years before.

“There, read this over,” Umbridge shoved the parchment under Marietta’s nose and she read over the scrawling pink marks her department head had made.

“Yes, this is good,” Marietta said, without really registering the changes. “I like it.”

“Excellent, let’s get one of the secretaries on making copies of it,” Umbridge leaned back in her chair and let out a small chirp of delight.

“I will,” Marietta said. “I have been thinking though, that there ought to be an anti-destruction charm on the letters.”

“You think this law will go over so poorly?” Umbridge asked. Marietta couldn’t tell if she was being serious or really wanted to know.

“I think people don’t like being told what to do, even if it’s good for them,” Marietta replied diplomatically. It was moments like this that made Marietta really question the level of Umbridge’s intelligence.

“Of course they don’t,” Umbridge giggled. It was a sound too girlish for a woman of her age and Marietta suppressed a wince at the sound of it. “But we’re the Ministry of Magic and we have their best interests at heart.”

“Yes, we do,” Marietta nodded. “Still, an anti-destruction charm would go a long way into letting the people know that we are serious.”

“Hmmm, yes, I do think you’re right. Do you have one in mind...or?”

“I would need to do some research,” Marietta replied. “I believe there is one we can tie to the recipients magic that may be very useful.”

“We should also make sure that the missives can’t be destroyed by fire or magical means,” Umbridge said. “An anti-incendio at the very least.”

“Of course,” Marietta nodded. “I’ll work up which charms will work best with each other and we can run some tests this afternoon before sending them all out at the end of the day.

“Wonderful. You are such a valued addition to this office, Marietta,” Umbridge grinned.

Marietta couldn’t help but blush at the praise. Umbridge was annoying at times, but she was still powerful within the Ministry and could help Marietta’s career. Marietta would do what she had to in order to make that happen. And if it helped get her revenge on Granger and the rest of those Gryffindorks, all the better.

* * *

_30 April 2004_

Marietta spent all of Friday in the conference room of the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths. She had several scrolls spread before her and was cross-checking between them, while a pair of dice sat before her. She’d chosen eight Gryffindors and had to find at least eight Slytherins to pair them with.

Already, Mary Cattermole had banged on the door, asking what Marietta was doing in there. Cattermole was a nosy busybody and Marietta had ignored her when she shouted questions through the door.

Finally, Marietta thought she had the perfect amount of Slytherins. She picked the nastiest ones to pair with the Gryffindors and reserved the one she wanted for herself. She was pretty sure that Umbridge would allow her match of choice. Marietta took a deep breath and looked around at her scrolls of names and the parchment ready to write down the pairings, then picked up the dice and shook them. She had an eight-sided and a ten-sided die, with each number corresponding to a name. The eight-sided die was for the Gryffindors and the ten-sided one was for the Slytherins. Marietta wanted to make sure she had enough Slytherins to make the perfect pairings for the Gryffindors. She chuckled to herself and while it wasn’t quite a cackle, it was rather close.

“Here we go,” she muttered and tossed the dice onto the table in front of her. The eight-sided die came up with a seven. Consulting her list, Harry Potter was number seven. The ten-sided die came up with a three, which corresponded to Theo Nott.

Same-sex couples weren’t unheard of in the wizarding world and Marietta didn’t want to the public to think that the Ministry was prejudiced against same-sex couples. Maintaining the appearance of a socially progressive stance always made it easier to pass laws such as this one. The public had to believe the Ministry was on the side of the people. And, truly, what better way to break up Potter and his girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, who he’d been dating for several years than to force him to be with a man. If she could make Draco Malfoy marry more than one person, she probably would have paired him with all three of the ‘Golden Trio’. Sadly polyamory was much less common in the wizarding world and the marriage law didn’t allow for it. Decided, Marietta wrote the match down on her parchment. One down, seven more to go.

The next roll matched Ron Weasley and Pansy Parkinson and that time Marietta did cackle. Parkinson would rule Weasley like a vice-grip on his balls. She couldn’t wait to see the fallout of that pairing. She wrote them down as well.

Cattermole was banging on the door again, but Marietta ignored it. A moment later, and she burst through.

“What in the world are you doing, Edgecombe?” Cattermole demanded, taking in the scene before her.

“Making the required matches,” Marietta replied. She stood to face Cattermole and glared at the older woman.

“We’re supposed to be matching based on personality and magic compatibility! Not just rolling some dice! They are going to have to be married for the rest of their lives! You are deliberately trying to ruin lives here and I won’t stand for it!”

“Hem-hem.”

Marietta knew that fake little cough. It was Umbridge’s tick when she wanted to interrupt. Cattermole stepped aside and flinched when Umbridge entered the room behind her.

“Now, now Mary. I’m the head of this department and I decide how this marriage law gets implemented.”

“No, the Wizengamot decided,” Cattermole insisted. “They laid down, clearly in the policy, how matches were to be made. This is demonstrably _not_ how,” she said sweeping her hand to indicate the table where the dice lay.

“Perhaps not, but with our limited resources and time constraints, we obviously don’t have the ability to match every person that way. Why don’t you go worry about the rest of the matches that will be done in accordance with the law,” Umbridge replied.

“No! I won’t let you ruin these people’s lives!” Cattermole snatched up the list that had the Gryffindors on it. “These are the people who fought You-Know-Who. They saved us from his wrath and you want to destroy their lives. It’s disgusting.”

“Ah, yes, thank you for bringing up the war, Mary,” Umbridge sneered nastily. “I had almost forgotten that you are just a Muggle-born, aren’t you? You registered with the Muggle-born Registration Committee, did you not?”

Marietta couldn’t stop the smirk from creeping onto her face. Umbridge had headed that committee. For a moment, she thought that Cattermole would snitch to Minister Shacklebolt or someone, but it seemed that Umbridge had everything in hand, as she normally did.

“You know I did,” Cattermole said through gritted teeth. “You were the one who took my wand.”

“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Umbridge grinned in a rather toadlike way.

“Fine,” Cattermole muttered and pushed past Umbridge and out of the room.

“Get this done and the letters out before anybody else thinks it’s a good idea to question us,” Umbridge snapped to Marietta, her smile falling completely from her face and her blue eyes cold as ice.

“I will,” Marietta promised. “Should be done in just a few minutes.”

Umbridge nodded and swept from the room, slamming the door behind her and making the bland artwork on the walls rattle.

Marietta hurried through the rest of her rolls. Ginny Weasley was paired with Blaise Zabini, a known womanizer. Hogwarts rivals Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint were matched. Katie Bell was paired with Gemma Fawley and Marietta felt a little bad for Gemma because she’d always been kind to Marietta, for a Slytherin. Marietta almost felt bad for George Weasley when he was matched with Rachel Urquhart. Urquhart was nearly as unfortunate looking as Millicent Bulstrode.

When she was finished matching everyone, she cleaned up her mess and set her dict-a-quill to copying out letters for each match. All Marietta had to do was fill in the names, and it was only another half-hour before she was done. She looked at her list and her stack of letters and smiled. Now to get them all sent out.

* * *

_03 May 2004_

A letter dropping into her lap startled Hermione from her nap. She had fallen asleep on the sofa, writing a list of pros and cons for dating Draco Malfoy. Their last few dates seemed to go well, but she wanted to get to know him better before she made any decisions about a future together. This new marriage law worried her. What if she was paired with Harry or Ron? Or worse yet, Gregory Goyle or Marcus Flint?

Hermione picked up the letter and stared at the bright pink ink. “ _Miss Hermione Granger_.” She started to read. “Oh bother, Umbridge has already made a choice for me.”

Hermione tentatively broke the seal on the envelope and pulled out the crisp piece of parchment.

_Miss Hermione Granger,_

_You are to report to the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths by 15 June 2004 with proof of your marriage to Draco Lucius Malfoy. According to the provisions of the Marriage Act of 2004, all witches and wizards must marry the partner chosen for them within six weeks of this notification. Failure to do so will result in the loss of all personal and hereditary property and incarceration of up to ten years in Azkaban._

_Sincerely,_

_Dolores Umbridge_

_Director_

_Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths_

“Merlin’s beard, she did it,” Hermione gasped as she dropped the letter on her coffee table. “I never thought she would take revenge this far.”

Hermione carefully folded the letter and tucked it into her beaded bag.

* * *

_03 May 2004_

It was done. All the matches were made and all of the letters were written. Marietta grinned at the cart that she was guiding along the corridor toward the owlery. Umbridge’s heels clicked beside her. They’d requisitioned every mass-mailing owl the Ministry had and soon they would all be flying all over Britain delivering their missives. The majority of the British wizarding population would soon be shackled to each other. Marietta didn’t feel a twinge of regret. Her own letter was in that pile and she couldn’t wait until she received it. That is until she had an excuse to owl him for drinks. Soon she’d be his wife.

The Owlery was kept dark, but Umbridge lit every torch on the wall the moment they entered.

“Here we are,” she announced and began flicking her stubby wand at the letters and attaching them to various owls. “Fly out now like good little dearies.”

Marietta rolled her eyes at the theatrics and began helping. There were thousands of letters that had to go out. It was an hour before every owl had been dispatched and not a single letter remained.

“Let the chaos commence,” Marietta muttered under her breath as she watched the last owl wing its way toward the horizon.

“How soon before Potter and his gang descend upon us?” Umbridge mused.

Marietta snorted a laugh. “It’s the end of the day. I would guess they’ll all be here first thing in the morning.”

“Good. It’s been entirely too long since I’ve seen them and I can’t _wait_ to tell them all they are stuck with what ‘magic’ decreed,” Umbridge tittered.

“I destroyed the evidence of the true matching and falsified the rest to make it look like they were all truly matched with each other,” Marietta said. “But I’m worried about Cattermole. She knows what happened and that could spell disaster for us.”

“Let me handle Cattermole. She’s too terrified to speak out, but if she does, I have a few more tricks up my sleeve.”

Marietta nodded and flicked her wand, banishing the cart back to the mailroom. Umbridge stalked out of the owlery ahead of her and before she left, Marietta doused all of the torches. Now all they could do was wait. The real fun was about to begin.

* * *

_03 May 2004_

“Bloody hell!” Draco’s shout echoed through the foyer of Malfoy Manor. “What is that blasted witch up to? The ink is not even dry on that law and she is already playing with people’s lives.”

Draco dropped the letter on to the silver tray in front of him. “ _Incendio!_ ”

“Mr. Malfoy,” Dolores Umbridge's voice filled the foyer. “This missive has been spelled against destruction. The Ministry of Magic Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths highly recommends you read this missive and retain it for your records.”

“Blasted woman, meddling in others lives like she owns them,” Draco muttered as he watched the flames flicker around the letter. “ _Finite_.” The bloody letter could wait. Draco had work to do.

Draco slammed the door as he stormed out of the Manor. He was going to be late for his first meeting of the day if he wasted any more time. His life was complicated enough without this letter adding more.

* * *

_4 May 2004_

Hermione looked at the scrap of parchment that had appeared on her desk.

_Dinner at 6?_

She was starting to get used to these little notes popping up. She still hadn’t figured out the charm he used, but Hermione was determined to master it after she weaseled the charm out of Draco.

Hermione was writing her reply when a tornado of red hair and fury exploded into her office. “I cannot believe this.” Ginny frantically waved a piece of parchment at Hermione. “Harry and I have been dating for years and now I am supposed to drop all of that because some bitter witch gets to play matchmaker? Blaise Zabini, of all people. This letter says I have to marry Blaise Zabini. He’s a cad! A womanizer! He’s never even seen with the same witch more than once!”

Hermione raised her hand and looked at the upset redhead who had taken over her office. “Slow down Ginny. What is this about?”

“This Marriage Law is absolutely insane. _You_ have to do something about it,” Ginny continued, “I am not marrying that snake, Zabini, when I finally have a wonderful man who loves me…”

“Let me see the letter.” Hermione held out her hand again. “I’m sure we can come up with something. But, first, we have to stop, take a deep breath, and think.”

“I think _she_ is doing this to get back at all of us.” Ginny whipped around and began pacing between the desk and the door of Hermione’s office. “I think she is trying to ruin my Quidditch career. I think…”

“I think you need to take a deep breath and let _me_ think.” Hermione skimmed over the letter Ginny had been waving in her face. “Let me read this and see if there is a loophole.”

Ginny continued to pace as Hermione continued to read. “Looks just like the one I got matching me with Draco. Be kind, ask him to meet for coffee, and try not to kill him.”

“You are going to have to write that note for me.” Ginny stopped at the door. “I don't think I can stop shaking long enough to hold a quill.”

“What do you want the note to say?” Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment from her top desk drawer. “It’s just coffee and a conversation, not an unbreakable vow.”

Ginny ran her fingers through her hair as she considered her options. “Coffee and conversation at the Brew and Bean? You pick the time.”

“That sounds fine.” Hermione scratched Ginny’s note on the parchment and folded it. “I have a note to send to Draco about tomorrow night, so I’ll run them up to the owlery and get them sent off.”

“This had better work.” Ginny gave Hermione a desperate look as they left the office. “I might be able to be _nice_ for a little while, but we NEED to find a loophole.”

“I know, but we only have six weeks to comply or face a ten-year sentence in Azkaban. I’m doing everything I can to find a loophole, but until then you’ll need just to give him a chance.” Hermione smiled as she pulled her door shut. “And who knows, he might surprise you.”

* * *

_4 May 2004_

Marietta looked nervously down at her hands that were twisted in her lap. Surprisingly, Adrian had owled her first after they had both received their assignments from the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths. Marietta had toiled all week in the evenings over the casual owl she planned to send to him, and he had owled her first, negating all of the hard work she’d done. She couldn’t be too upset though, because she liked that he had taken the initiative. And really, she didn’t think he would remember her at all. At least, she hoped that he wouldn’t.

“Ah, so you’re Marietta Edgecombe,” a stupidly handsome, the well-dressed wizard said in cultured tones right next to Marietta. She jumped in her seat and looked up to see Adrian Pucey smirking down at her. He frowned for a moment, studying her face and Marietta reddened and looked back down at her lap. She almost hoped he was studying her because of the words still written on her forehead and not—

“Didn’t you ask me to the Yule Ball?” Adrian asked. That. That’s what she hoped Adrian didn’t remember. How utterly mortifying. She _had_ asked him to the Yule Ball in her fifth year. Adrian was two years older than her and infinitely more popular at Hogwarts. At least she didn’t have that awful word emblazoned on her forehead then. She would never have worked up the courage to ask him had that been the case.

Adrian snorted and slid into the seat across from her. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said, cocking his head to the side, trying to get her to look at him.

Marietta gazed at him through her fringe. “Easy for you to say, you didn’t work up the courage to ask out a seventh year, only to have him and his friends laugh in your face.” She meant to say it softly, but it came out like a confrontation.

Adrian leaned back in his chair and pursed his lips. “And you work in the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths, don’t you?”

Marietta nodded tightly. “I do, but I’m too low on the ladder to have made any matches.” She’d determined that was going to be the lie if anyone asked her about it. Adrian’s eyes narrowed and Marietta felt like she’d said something wrong, but she wasn’t sure what that would have been. She went over their conversation in her mind and other than snapping at him about the Yule Ball incident, she couldn’t think of anything.

Adrian was one of the most brilliant solicitors in the country. Anybody who was anybody had him representing them in any and all legal matters. It was partially why Marietta had been so keen on being matched with him in the first place.

“Well, when shall we get married?” Adrian asked as he picked up his menu.

Marietta’s eyebrows shot up. “What? No fussing? No obligatory whining?”

“And face ten years in Azkaban? Not bloody likely. Do you want a big ceremony or will the Ministry suffice?”

“Ministry is fine,” Marietta said. “I’m not picky on timing, although I expect I will only get busier at work the closer we get to the deadline.”

Adrian nodded and didn’t say anything more. Marietta still had a feeling like she had let something slip, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what.

* * *

_4 May 2004_

Draco stared at the charred envelope sitting on his desk. “I thought I left this bloody thing at home,” he grumbled as he took another swallow of Firewhiskey. “It can’t even stay where I put it. The bloody envelope had to follow me to work. Let’s see if it will stay in File 13, so I can get back to trying to forget it exists.”

Draco picked up the letter and walked toward the trash bin. “Just stay put,” he prayed as he dropped the letter into the bin. “Please stay put.”

Draco walked back to his desk, and just as he picked up the decanter to refill his glass, the door to his office flew open.

“Bloody hell, Nott. What has your knickers in a twist?” Draco snarled as a frazzled Theodore Nott staggered toward the desk. “Care to join me for a drink? I have had enough unpleasantness for the day. What’s wrong with you?”

“This is what.” Theo slammed the parchment he held on Draco’s desk.”That meddlesome, magenta menace thinks she can run my life. Who the hell left her in charge of that office?”

“Unfortunately, the Wizengamot. They put her where they thought she could do the least damage and then they forgot about her,” Draco growled and handed Theo a glass of Firewhiskey.

Theo choked on his whiskey as he watched Draco’s nemesis rise out of the trash bin and settle back on the desk.

“Merlin’s beard, it won’t stay gone. We apparently can’t burn them or throw them in the bin.” Draco took another sip and closed his eyes. “How bad could it be? She can’t have paired you with anyone to make you this upset.”

“At least I have opened mine.” Theo jabbed a finger at the missive sitting on Draco’s desk. “Read it. She has saddled me with Harry bloody Potter. I am an equal opportunity wizard when it comes to affairs of the heart, but Potter…”

“He’s not that bad, for a war hero.” Draco shrugged. “I’m sure she had her reasons. He has been dating Weasley’s little sister, but this letter ends that for both of them. If you really want to yank that pink dragon’s tail, meet him and see what happens.”

“Not bloody likely.” Theo pulled his wand out of his sleeve and pointed it at the offending pieces of parchment.

“I wouldn’t do that if you want to keep your eyebrows,” Draco warned. “She has spelled the bloody things to be indestructible and they talk to you if you try.”

“I see you have first-hand experience.” Theo pointed at the charred envelope in the center of Draco’s desk. “Who has she paired you with?”

“I haven’t looked yet,” Draco mumbled. “I’m seeing Hermione and I don’t want to see what Umbridge has done. I have spent my day tangling with the Wizengamot and researching that damn law. There has to be a way to get out of this.”

“We have a month and a half to figure it out.” Theo set his glass on Draco’s desk and turned toward the door. “I guess a request to meet is in order. Hand me a piece of parchment and a quill. By the way, your owl is waiting.” Theo nodded toward the owl perch.

Draco spun around to stare at the owl sitting on the perch behind his desk. “That is not my owl. It's my mother's. It seems that it has a message for me. Feel free to use him when you have your message ready.”

Draco swore as he looked down at the message the owl had delivered. “Bloody hell, I do _not_ have time for this.”

Theo ignored him and Draco frowned again at the letter in his hands. He didn’t care to find out what his mother had written. He shoved it into a drawer and focused his attention back to Theo.

“Why do you think the Ministry paired a same-sex couple when the whole point of the marriage law is propagating the population?” Theo asked.

“A nod to diversity,” Draco replied. “Can’t be seen as being anti-same sex partnerships when they are quite common in the wizarding world.”

“But Potter? Surely they’d want him to have children of his own.”

“Or not,” Draco said. “Potter could become a King, you know? With the way he defeated the Dark Lord. And if he has no children, then there’s no Potter dynasty to deal with.”

“That is cold and manipulative,” Theo shuddered.

“Umbridge was a Slytherin. I’m not surprised, honestly,” Draco sighed and checked his pocket watch. He was meeting Hermione for drinks in half an hour. “Hate to cut this short, but I have a date with a pretty witch.”

Theo chuckled and finished his drink in one swallow. “Well, don’t let me keep you waiting, however, you ought to open your letter. Dating Granger will only bring you both heartbreak when you eventually have to break up with her and marry whoever the toad has chosen for you.”

Draco scowled at his friend and ignored his suggestion. He didn’t need to open his letter. He had a month and a half, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that in the end, Granger was who he ended up with.

* * *

_4 May 2004_

Hermione smiled brightly at Draco as he entered what they considered as ‘their’ pub, which was on the Muggle side of London. Hermione preferred the anonymity and Draco preferred the Muggle scotch. Hermione had ordered for him already and pushed his drink across the small table as he slid into the chair opposite her.

“How was your day?” Hermione asked. She didn’t bother mentioning the letter. They’d get around to it, and frankly, her level of relief was astounding after seeing Draco’s name.

“Fine,” Draco grinned at her. “So, I’ve got tickets to this show on Saturday.”

“What kind of show?” Hermione asked.

“A West End show about a witch,” Draco smirked.

“You got tickets to Wicked?” Hermione asked dropping her jaw as Draco nodded. His smile was smug and Hermione bounced up out of her seat. She scrambled around the table to hug him. “You are brilliant, Draco Malfoy,” she murmured into his ear, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“I aim to please,” Draco said, his cheeks a bright pink after Hermione’s display. Hermione had been dying to see Wicked since it came out the previous year, but tickets were brutally difficult to come by and she’d only mentioned it to Draco in passing a week prior. She felt surer than ever with the result of the marriage law. Perhaps it wouldn’t work out for everyone—Ginny and Harry flashed through her mind—but she knew it would work out for her.

Their date carried on and it wasn’t until Hermione got home later that night that she realized they hadn’t even discussed the marriage law. She frowned, thinking she’d have to remember to bring it up the next time they were together. They only had six weeks to comply.

* * *

_6 May 2004_

Draco sighed heavily as he eyed the charred envelope that had haunted him for the past few days. He still hadn’t opened it. He was proud of his abilities to not talk to Hermione about the marriage law. He knew sticking his head in the sand about it was not healthy, nor would it free him from the law, but he just couldn’t bring himself to open the envelope. He couldn’t dash whatever it was he had with Hermione by the rip of some parchment.

“I met with Potter yesterday,” Theo said from the door of Draco’s study.

“How did you get in?” Draco asked, furrowing his brow. He hadn’t even heard the Floo activate.

“You didn’t hear the Floo because you were too busy staring at that envelope instead of opening it,” Theo replied. “If you don’t open it, I will.”

“How was Potter?” Draco asked, changing the subject. Theo narrowed his eyes but allowed it.

“Good. Surprisingly open about it all. He was frustrated, of course, but determined to follow the law.” Theo helped himself to the Firewhiskey at the sidebar and poured a drink for Draco as well. He set Draco’s on the desk in front of him, then pushed the envelope toward Draco before sitting down opposite him.

“So when are you getting married?” Draco asked.

Theo lifted his left hand, and a minimal gold wedding band flashed in the candlelight.

“Congratulations,” Draco grinned at his friend. “I hope you’ll be happy.”

“I suspect I will be until this damned law gets overturned and Potter decides he prefers witches after all,” Theo sighed dramatically.

“You’ll just have to convince him of your charms then,” Draco replied. He sipped his drink, contemplating the envelope again.

Theo snatched it from the desk and opened it.

“Ouch! Bloody thing,” Theo cursed as the envelope stung his hands.

“I told you it’s spelled,” Draco muttered.

“Draco,” Theo said, looking down at the letter. Draco’s heart stopped, but he tried to act like whatever the letter said wouldn’t affect him. “You lucky bastard.”

Draco snorted. “Lucky? Unless it says Granger’s name, I’m anything but lucky. I think she’s the one, Theo.”

Theo smirked at him and slammed the parchment onto the desk in front of Draco. Draco steeled himself to look, feeling like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. Theo’s other hand pushed the back of Draco’s head down until he either had to read the parchment or close his eyes. Draco read the parchment.

_Mr. Draco Malfoy,_

_You are to report to the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths by 15 June 2004 with proof of your marriage to Hermione Jean Granger. According to the provisions of the Marriage Act of 2004, all witches and wizards must marry the partner chosen for them within six weeks of this notification. Failure to do so will result in the loss of all personal and hereditary property and incarceration of up to ten years in Azkaban._

_Sincerely,_

_Dolores Umbridge_

_Director_

_Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths_

“Bloody hell, I got Granger,” Draco muttered in awe. He read the letter over and over again. He couldn’t quite believe what he was reading. Why hadn’t she said anything? They’d seen each other twice now since the letters had been delivered. Although, it certainly explained her cheerfulness at their last meeting. Draco knew he was acting like a miserable sod, but he had been so sure that whoever he was matched with, it wasn’t Hermione.

He looked up at Theo with shocked eyes. Theo was grinning at him and lifted an eyebrow.

“Well, what are you still doing here?”

Draco jumped up like he’d been zapped in the arse and sprinted for the Floo. The letter was still clutched in his hand as he grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and shouted his destination.

* * *

_6 May 2004_

Hermione shuffled through the stack of parchment on her desk, looking for the newest proposal that Boot had sent up. She was certain she put it in this stack, but now it was eluding her. Suddenly, her office door banged open. She jumped as she looked up to see Draco standing in her doorway. He looked half-crazed and had a piece of parchment clutched in one hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, stalking toward her. He slammed the door shut behind him, making Hermione jump again.

Hermione frowned and looked at the piece of parchment in his hand. She could just make out the seal for the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths. Was he upset about this? Had he just opened the letter now? She’d assumed he already knew since he’d been acting totally normal earlier this week.

“You got the same letter I did. I assumed you knew,” Hermione said. She stood and frowned at him because she didn’t like the way he was standing over her.

“I didn’t open it,” Draco admitted, defeated. “I was afraid it wouldn’t be you. I was miserable because I thought for sure I’d be paired with someone else. And I was doubly miserable because you didn’t seem to care at all! You didn’t even bring it up on Tuesday!”

Hermione shrugged. “I forgot about it on Tuesday. I was going to bring it up today when we went for dinner.” She walked around her desk and put her hand on his arm. “Mostly, I was relieved when I saw your name in my letter. We got _really_ lucky.”

Draco sighed, the tension seemed to leave his body when she touched him. “More than lucky,” he whispered and placed a soft kiss on her mouth. Hermione leaned into it. They hadn’t shared many kisses, but this one felt different than the ones in the past. It felt like it was _more_  like it was signifying more. She didn’t balk when Draco deepened the kiss. A spark ran through her as he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his body to hers. Suddenly, Hermione couldn’t get enough. Her hands threaded through his hair and when she tried to lift her leg around his hip, she was stopped by her pencil skirt. She growled in her throat and began attacking Draco’s clothes.

“Love,” Hermione whispered, trailing kisses down the side of his neck. “You might want to lock and spell the door. I know this will be news soon, but do we really want this picture in the Daily Prophet?”

“ _Alohomora_.” Hermione felt him growl out the spell as she continued to spread kisses down his neck. “ _Silencio_.”

“You never know who could have an ear outside the door,” Draco whispered. He fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. “I have had enough surprises this week. I want to enjoy myself without interruptions.”

“Your place or mine?” Hermione nipped the tip of his collarbone and she ran her finger down the front of his shirt. “ _Diffindo_. That’s much better.”

Draco shuddered as she traced her name into his chest with her fingers. “I’ve waited long enough. RIght here is perfect.”

“Desk…” Hermione sighed when Draco’s hands slide over her back. “Just watch out for the parchment, it took hours to sort them.”

Draco flicked a hand at the parchment on her desk and they shuffled off neatly into a pile in the corner. “Less talking more kissing,” he said between kisses, “Fewer clothes, too.”

The whispers of clothes leaving bodies was followed by Hermione’s moan. “Such a delicious treat.” Draco murmured and he drew her nipple into his mouth. “I wonder what the rest of you tastes like.”

While Draco nibbled her nipple, Hermione wrapped her fingers around his cock.

“In a hurry, darling? I thought we were taking our time.”

“Less talking, more touching,” Hermione groaned as Draco lifted her by the waist and set her on the desk, making her drop her hold on his cock. “We have some exploring to do.”

Draco’s chuckle did send a shot of arousal through Hermione’s body and his lips trailed down from her chest toward her aching clit. “Draco,” she hissed when he parted her folds with his fingers and flicked her hooded clit with his tongue.

“Just as I thought,” Draco murmured, “fucking divine.”

Hermione cried out as he delved both fingers and tongue inside her. She fell back onto her elbows, widening her legs. Draco lifted one of her thighs over his shoulder and she threaded her fingers through his hair, urging him closer.

“Draco,” she whined again as he began flicking her clit with his tongue. It was the perfect amount of pressure with the perfect rhythm and soon Hermione was careening over the edge of an orgasm crying out Draco’s name.

Before she had much time to recover, Draco had his cock in position and had pushed through her folds and slid inside. She whined in her throat and arched her back, now lying flat on the desk. Draco leaned over her, propping himself on his elbows and pressing a fierce kiss to her lips. His hips stopped pumping for a moment and Hermione took the opportunity to wrap her legs around his hips and press her heels into his arse. She dragged her hands up and down his back like she couldn’t get close enough to him to satisfy her.

“Hermione,” he panted. “I’m not going to last.” He dropped his forehead to hers and gazed into her eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful, this is so fucking perfect. How did we get this lucky?” He dragged his cock out so slowly, so deliciously that Hermione groaned loudly at the feel of it.

“So lucky,” Hermione murmured as he shifted his hips and pushed back inside with a sharp thrust. Hermione cried out and arched her back as Draco set an almost brutal pace. His hips snapped into hers and Hermione drifted a hand down to her clit.

“That’s it, touch yourself. I want you to come again,” Draco whispered into her ear. He dropped his head to her shoulder and Hermione cradled it with one hand while she dragged her fingers over her clit with the other.

“So close,” Hermione hissed and Draco increased his pace.

“Come on,” he whined, urging her forward. Hermione was straining, she was right on the edge and Draco bit her shoulder lightly, it was enough.

“Draco!” Hermione shouted, arching her back, digging her heels into his bum as she clenched around him.

“Fuck, Hermione,” Draco muttered against her shoulder. His entire body tensed around her as he came with a low growl.

They both lay there for a long moment, neither of them saying anything, their breath mingling. When Draco’s softened cock slid from her she let out a groan at the loss.

A pounding on the door startled Hermione from her bliss.

"'Mione, are you okay? I thought I heard shouts." Ginny's worried voice drifted through the door. "I need to talk to you"

"She is now," Draco's voice drifted back through the door. Ginny stared at the door as his laughter filled the hall.

* * *

_10 May 2004_

Marietta and Adrian were set to be married at the end of the month. Close to the deadline, but not actually at the deadline. Marietta was vexed by it but didn’t want to push. She didn’t want Adrian to finagle a way out of the law. She didn’t think that he could, but something about him made her nervous.

“Edgecombe, my office now!” Umbridge shouted, startling Marietta. She jumped from her seat and hurried to Umbridge’s office.

“What is the meaning of this!” Umbridge hissed, slamming a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ down on the desk. The moment she moved her stubby fingers from it, Marietta snatched it up. There, on the front page, above the fold was a huge photo of Granger and Malfoy. They were grinning at each other and Granger looked up at Malfoy with complete adoration in her eyes before leaning up on her toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was hard to tell in the newsprint, but Marietta was sure that Malfoy pinkened at the gesture. Then the photo loop began again. She read the text beneath the photo.

 _Matched by the marriage law! ‘It was a complete surprise,’ Hermione Malfoy née Granger, war-heroine, Order of the Merlin, First Class, member of the ‘Golden Trio’ told the_ Daily Prophet _in a brief interview after her wedding ceremony to Draco Malfoy._

_‘We were already dating, so when we opened our envelopes, we were both really pleased,’ she went on to say._

“See that?” Umbridge stabbed her finger at the paper. “They were already dating! How could you have made such a massive mistake? I knew we should have married her off to a septuagenarian like I had planned! Look at how _happy_ they are!” Her voice dripped with sarcasm and Marietta looked again at the photo. They _did_ look happy. Happier than Marietta was, even though she was about to marry the man of her dreams.

“I didn’t kno—”

“You didn’t do your research,” Umbridge rebutted. “You were a Ravenclaw. I expected better from you.”

Marietta flinched at the venom in her tone. She sounded downright toxic and Marietta wondered if she was about to be fired.

“I’m sorry,” Marietta muttered. “I truly didn’t know, I’m not sure anybody did.”

“Well it’s too late now, isn’t it? They’re married and _happy_ ,” Umbridge sneered. “Get out.”

Marietta scampered out of the office and to her cubicle. She put her head down on her desk. How could things have gone so wrong? She grumbled under her breath for a few moments before pulling herself together. There were several scheduled bondings happening today and the office was always open for drop-in bondings as well. She looked again at the schedule that one of the secretaries had dropped off at her desk this morning. She was scheduled to officiate two bondings in the afternoon and witness three this morning. Taking a quick glance at the clock on the wall, she had fifteen minutes until the first bonding ceremony. Just enough time to run to the ladies and get a cup of tea. She wouldn’t let Umbridge unsettle her. So one of their matches hadn’t worked out, but if Umbridge truly thought that Granger and Malfoy were going to be happy together for the rest of their lives, she was sorely mistaken. They were just too different.

Marietta choked on her tea when she entered one of the conference rooms where bondings were taking place. Ginny Weasley was wrapped around Blaise Zabini like a vine on a tree. Marietta wasn’t even sure that Zabini could breathe with the way Weasley’s tongue was down his throat. Was this another couple that was happy with the marriage law? She had a sinking feeling in her stomach as she whipped out her schedule and reviewed it again. Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint were also due to be bonded today, as were Ron Weasley and Pansy Parkinson.

An hour later Parkinson stormed into the room. “Come, Ronald,” she beckoned imperiously and Weasley trotted after her like a puppy. The clear look of worship and adoration in his eyes sickened Marietta. Merlin, it felt like Flint and Wood were her last hope. She’d seen Potter and Nott holding hands while in Diagon Alley just a few days ago. How could her random pairings have gone so wrong? Perhaps Umbridge had been right to criticize her? Marietta scowled at the thought. She hated to admit she was wrong in anything. All the matches she had been responsible for appeared to be happy, utterly counter to her aim in making people _un_ happy. She was a terrible matchmaker.

“You are a wonderful matchmaker, Miss Edgecombe,” Kingsley Shacklebolt boomed from behind her, clapping a large heavy hand on her shoulder. She whipped around to see the Minister for Magic beaming at her. “I was told you were responsible for several of the happiest matches to come out of this law.”

Marietta felt the color drain from her face. _That fucking bitch_! Of course, Umbridge had run to her intended and squealed on Marietta.

“Oh, Minister, Madame Umbridge had a hand in them all as well,” Marietta simpered. She hoped he bought her fake smile because she felt like she was barely holding on to it.

“I’m sure she did,” Shacklebolt grinned and Marietta suddenly had a feeling that she was in very deep waters indeed. “Well, I just wanted to come down and see how the bondings were going, but I see you have it well in hand here.”

Shacklebolt left the room and Marietta groaned when Flint and Wood walked in holding hands and grinning. She was fucked. She was going to be fired, if not by Umbridge, then by Shacklebolt. Just that morning, she’d heard rumors that Shacklebolt was refusing to marry Umbridge. He wanted to see the tests run for himself before he would consent. No wonder Umbridge was so irritated today. Marietta was thin-lipped as she watched Flint and Wood tie the knot, gazing lovingly at each other. It was sweet enough to make her nauseous.

* * *

_25 May 2004_

_MARRIAGE ACT REPEALED!_

_In an abrupt about-face, the Marriage Act of 2004 has been reversed. The Wizengamot who had originally voted for the law in a surprisingly tight vote of 70-60 just at the end of last month, has voted unanimously to overturn the act just 22 days into it. This abrupt and unexpected decision can only lead to the question of why? Half of the population that had been ordered to marry within 6 weeks have complied already. What will it mean for those marriages? The lucky half who had put off their own wedded bliss are now released from the duty altogether. This reporter feels as though the last month has been a fever dream and is determined to find out the reason why the Ministry decided to put its citizens through such rigamarole. I sat down with Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt just this morning to get the answers to all those questions and more._

_‘Minister, can you tell me why the Marriage Act of 2004 was passed in the first place?’_

_‘Excellent question Miss Patil. The Wizengamot felt the act was needed due to the heavy losses sustained over the last two generations of war. I was opposed to the act from the beginning, as you’ll no doubt already know from your research.’_

_‘And what about the couples already married? Will they be able to annul or divorce their partners?’_

_‘If they choose to and did not have a magically binding ceremony, then yes. They will be able to seek an annulment.’_

_‘That’s interesting. Were you aware that every ceremony performed by the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths was a magically binding ceremony?’_

_‘I-what? Where did you hear that? That can’t be tru—’_

_‘I assure you, Minister, it is. I heard it directly from your own former-intended Madame Dolores Umbridge. She said, and I quote, “The Marriage Act of 2004 is intended to be a legally and magically binding act for as long as both participants shall live. As such, the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths will perform magically binding ceremonies for each match that comes in.” Were you not aware of this?’_

_‘I...no I wasn’t. I’m sorry Miss Patil, I must cut this interview short.’_

_And with that, our esteemed Minister stormed out of the_ Daily Prophet’s _office. I am sure he is quite glad he never had his own marriage finalized in light of the discovery that the Office of Births, Bonds, and Deaths was performing magically binding marriages. Let’s hope those that were permanently bound are happy together and if they aren’t, that our Ministry will work out a way to un-bind them._

 _Stay tuned, dear readers, as we at the_ Daily Prophet _will stay on this story until it’s conclusion._

Hermione slammed down the paper, fuming at the contents. How could the Ministry be so stupid? It made her want to throttle the entire institution.

“Hey, at least we’re happy,” Draco said, putting his hand on hers.

“I know, but think of all of those that aren’t! This is why the government shouldn’t be involved in individual citizens’ lives. What a mess.”

“I know,” Draco pulled her into his arms and Hermione took a deep breath of his scent, which always worked to calm her down. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Hermione murmured, grateful that despite it all, the law had matched her and Draco together. She only hoped that everyone who had married already would be as happy as she and Draco were.

**Fin.**


End file.
